The wind atop the Wall was different.
It did not rush or howl as Serena had expected.
Instead, it flowed—steady and deliberate—sliding along the stone like a patient hand testing the strength of what it touched.
It carried the smells of two worlds at once: tilled earth and hearth smoke from the south, pine and distant rain from the north.
Serena stood near the parapet, fingers resting lightly against the pale stone.
It was warm beneath her touch.
Not sun-warmed—alive warm.
She could feel it now that she was so close.
Almost as if she could feel the love and warmth bestowed upon this creation by the mind and hand that called it forth into being.
This wall though inanimate was almost like a living breathing creation of Julius's.
She exhaled slowly.
"So this is what it feels like," she murmured.
Julius glanced at her. "What is?"
